


When a blind man cries

by ukenceto



Series: Love beyond the bones [3]
Category: Gears of War (Video Games)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 08:26:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14930720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ukenceto/pseuds/ukenceto
Summary: In the aftermath of Azura's battle, Damon Baird takes a moment to reflect on the world they have left. And more importantly, the people still in it.





	When a blind man cries

It was a dark and stormy night.

 

 

In a way, it felt fitting that it should be – the sunlight and breeze among the greenery in Azura had stood out too vibrant, too bright surrounding a battleground. The rain would wash away all the blood and bone which covered the marble buildings, even if it couldn’t do much for the ruins, nor the bullet holes.

 

And yet, the time was not right for it. Anyone who’d tried to get a funeral pyre burning amidst downpour and hurricane-like winds knew it was a sad ordeal made even worse.

 

He watched the few still smoldering fires on the beach, the reddish glow of the embers almost lost in the movement of tree branches and torrents of water. There was no fuel left after Adam Fenix’ generator destroyed the Immulsion, but apparently someone had found a way to get the bodies of the fallen their rightful farewell. Not like there hasn’t been plenty of wood laying around, and even though the locust were supposed to be gone for good this time, he figured it would be a while until people considered burials the right thing to do again.

 

Not like he cared, either way. If so many years of war had taught him something, it was that what happened to the bodies was meant for the living, not the dead. Those who were gone couldn’t distinguish between the cold, dark earth or the burning flame; and many had gotten neither, left where they’d fallen, all alone.

 

A big, bad world it was.

 

Damon sighed and looked back at the sea, trying to find the shadow of the UIR ship amidst the water. It was far, but still visible on the horizon. He wondered if the Gorasni took their fallen to be burned on boats, or those had been to scarce to spare. If not, maybe in death they had finally found the peace they never could in life, laid down in the same fiery graves as the Gears.

 

Shaking his head, he moved away from the balcony, the only thing illuminating the room behind being the occasional lightning bolt as it seared across the sky.

 

 

They had destroyed the Maelstrom generator during the siege, yet mother nature had proved she still had her say in the weather around Azura. Although, an insistent thought hadn’t been able to leave him since he’d tried to read some of professor Fenix’ research earlier. A lot of how the Immulsion had interacted with Sera’s ecosystem was left unexplained (and most likely unexplored, considering the professor had been busy making orbital space lasers and being abducted by his own country all the while having contact with the hostile forces, or at least knowing more about them than anyone else had since E-day).

 

Yeah, basically Damon left the heavier reading for a moment in the future when his head was somewhat clearer. He was still pissed off about everything the COG had kept under lids, the intel which might have helped end the war sooner if only more people were privy to research it. Or prevent a lot of stupid decisions that HQ had done throughout the years.

 

Yet, if he had to be honest with himself, none of that would’ve stopped him from getting right into work before. His mind was analytical, he could calculate the trajectory of a bullet and pinpoint exactly where it had stuck an Armadillo’s engine mid-battle and be on his way to fix it while the firefight was still hot; anger at the chain of command never affected his abilities, or he couldn’t have lasted as long as he did in the end.

 

 

It was everything else that had happened which was finally taking its toll on him. The fight had left them all exhausted, yes, but then came the search for survivors. Gathering the bodies. Waiting to hear the sign of enemies because it was a second nature by now, and always bracing for an attack.

 

And when none came, the realization of all which had transpired in few short days.

 

He’d found a long-lost friend, but now there was a rift between them that Damon knew it wasn’t within his power to repair. Paduk didn’t wish to have anything to do with him or the COG anymore, and even if there was still so much left unsaid between them.

 

Then it was the news about Dom… Death marched on all battlefields, but it always ended up being those he let in, the friends, brothers in arms that life held no mercy for.

 

 

Walking down the stairs and into the large courtyard bellow, he could hear the muffled conversations of people as they sat around in small groups, near the walls or at few tables under the half-destroyed rooftop. Some were laying on makeshift beds, only now and then the trail of cigarette smoke would reveal those unable to sleep yet.

 

There hadn’t been much of a celebration earlier; since the sky had gotten dark with the promise of another storm around midday, and the air heavy and humid, everyone tried to get the most immediate work done first. The alcohol came later, what was salvaged from the various buildings and supply crates around the island. But even then, it was the quiet sort of drinking; a night for mourning. Of people asking themselves if that truly was the end this time around, after so many illusory victories in the past.

 

He went outside before anyone could notice him; he wasn’t in the mood for a chat, and not like many were waiting in line anyways.

 

Marcus had walked away earlier, brushing away everyone who’d as much as tried to offer him a word of comfort. He’d needed just a look to understand that more than anything, Marcus wanted to be left alone with his grief back then. The hidden storm in his eyes which had said that no, neither of them understood what he felt in that moment.

 

 

And yet, recalling Marcus shedding his armor and weapons still pained him, on some deep, visceral level. It was the part of himself he’d tried to push back through the years, the one he knew would otherwise not let him survive the agony of war.

 

But now it was there, a still bleeding cut between them. And it worried him, and it was what didn’t let him concentrate on anything else, what had his brain run in circles like a computer stuck in a faulty loop.

 

 

It was time to find Marcus, even if he didn’t have the right words to tell him.  

 

 

***

 

 

He pulled the thin shirt around himself tighter, suppressing the shiver which ran through him. The night was surprisingly cold, chill cutting down all exposed skin like shards of ice.

 

The clouds were thinning, but the wind was still strong and carried stray water drops, howled into the trees and cast moving shadows along his path. At least the half-moon’s light was enough to illuminate the torn road ahead and prevent him from falling in a mortar hole or a ditch.

 

It reminded him of a saying, something he’d read someplace long ago; how standing in the narrow line between light and dark was always the most difficult part of life. Of how one step could change everything, for better or worse.

 

Shaking his head, he hurried forth. It was not the time for thoughts like those.

 

Yeah, he’d worried a bit at first, treacherous thoughts telling him it wasn’t safe to leave Marcus by himself. That people made impulsive decisions under unfortunate circumstances. But he’d abandoned that logic, because he knew Marcus better than that. Damon had seen him go through so much, and even if more than once he’d acted with nearly suicidal recklessness, it wasn’t in his nature to give up after everything that had happened.

 

And in the past months he’d grown to realize that Marcus was altruistic to a fault; which grew the certainty that he wouldn’t leave the memory of his fallen brother fade by taking his own life. Not when Dom had sacrificed himself so that they all could have a future.

 

So here he was now, hours later, going where many would’ve disagreed that he’d supposed to have been much earlier. A bottle of something really strong in hand, if the label was to be trusted. Still uncertain what to say, but more willing to make his presence known.

 

Because he wasn’t just Marcus’ friend, not from a while now. They had something, even if neither had given it a name yet. But it was something that had a weight, a worth; even if Damon’s insecurities sometimes kept him awake at night, he had no doubt that Marcus wanted him, wanted what they were for each other.

 

As he climbed up the hill towards a lone fire he’d spotted a while ago, he heard the melancholic melody of an old ballad carried along the wind. The sound was low and there was some static, telltale sign of an ancient radio; the words just audible enough to be heard over the waves crashing into the shoreline.

 

And if he stopped to take a breath of relief, he didn’t need to dwell on it.

 

Not when he could see the dark silhouette leaning against a solitary stone wall, half crumbled and covered in moss; then a hand reaching to toss another piece of sun-bleached driftwood into the fire. It crackled with a gush of sparks, the sea salt etched into it flashing green for a second before dissolving.

 

“Well? Just gonna stand there all night?”

 

Marcus’ voice nearly startled him; he had been standing still for a while, uncertain if the other man had noticed him too. So he stepped forward silently, until he was in the circle of light from the fire, heat seeping through his damp clothing.

For a long moment Marcus didn’t look at him, his gaze resting on the flickering flames instead. Damon realized he’d never seen him look so tired, exhausted even. Even when they’d been in the field for way too long, Marcus had always put on a stoic front, unwilling to show even a sign of discomfort.

 

Now the crow’s feet on the sides of his face appeared even deeper, accented by the dark circles under his eyes; his ever-present frown for once revealed sadness rather than anger.

 

Faced with Marcus’ inner turmoil, Damon was unable to remain impassive any longer, and sat on the ground next to him. A heartbeat later he slung an arm over his back, bringing them closer until their sides were flushed together and he could feel the warmth from Marcus’ body against his.

 

“A drink?” He offered the bottle in his other hand with a sigh. For all his overthinking on the way here, it was the best he’d managed to come up with.

 

The bottle was accepted without a word, but Marcus’ hand coming to rest on the small of his back told him enough. A third of what was probably more than twenty year-old cognac disappeared in a single long gulp, and Damon wondered if he should’ve brought more. If anyone around needed it, it was Marcus for sure. And it seemed it wouldn’t have mattered a damn to him if it was that or the moonshine someone had found earlier; as long as it was strong.

 

That was fine though. Drowning one’s sorrow now and then had to happen, or it threatened to consume them instead, to burn harder than any ethanol could. And things being as they were, they didn’t talk about those they had lost. For everyone had family, friends, loved ones who were no longer there; they remembered them instead. The good times, the bad times even, in the dark of night or the heat of battle. In the quiet moments before dawn, when the world was gray and ‘now’ was almost the same as ‘then’.

 

But when it came down to sorrow, to desolation, having someone close meant more than anything else.

 

Resting his head on Marcus’ shoulder, Damon looked up as he heard the faint jingle of metal coming from somewhere overhead. He noticed the cog tags reflecting glimmers of the fire, strung on a high tree branch, nearly invisible in the dark if it wasn’t for the breeze moving them. The sight reminded him of something couldn’t quite place, a somber feeling tightening in his chest.

 

“A man long gone once told me he could hear the dead in the sound the tags made at night.” Marcus sighed, taking another drink of the bottle.

 

“Do you think he really meant it?” Damon said carefully. He wasn’t sure where the conversation was going, but superstition wasn’t exactly his strong side.

 

“Don’t know… But he could also hear them in a roaring river. A field of wheat. The last flock of birds, fleeting before Frost. Maybe he was right, in his own way.”  Marcus tipped the now nearly empty bottle over the fire, making a high flame flash for a moment as the spirit burned with blue hue.

 

That was an old custom, something Damon knew sailors and soldiers did alike – the last drink in reverence for the dead. He suddenly remembered who else used to hang the tags in such a way, most likely whose words Marcus recalled now. Tai... He would have known what to say to Marcus about the loss of his father and brother for sure. He had a unique way to see death, as all Islanders seemed to.

 

But he was gone too.

 

“I think… Where we can hear them the most is in our hearts.” He finally spoke, knowing that he shouldn’t let that moment go, not without some form of reassurance at least.

 

“Doesn’t sound like the worst place to be.” Marcus replied, voice surprisingly soft.

 

“Yes.” A small smile formed on his lips as he found Marcus’ hand, interlacing their fingers together.

 

Looking at the dark sea ahead with half-lidded eyes, he could feel Marcus’ even breaths, the light brush of his thumb against his hand. A heart… he could live with that thought.

 

Turning to the side, he sought Marcus’ lips with his own, felt him lean into the kiss with the desperation of a drowning man. Felt his hands grip him tighter, pull him closer still.

 

 

That, he could give to him. Not the promise of a new dawn, but the oath that they would see it together again.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Title's from Deep Purple's song 
> 
> give it a listen if you haven't 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9_Iq9CWuqMM


End file.
